The Broken Thread
by Cortland04
Summary: Was their another fate meant for Mozenrath? Another path he was meant to travel upon and lead his life?
1. The Uncovered Truth

A/N: So I woke up one day a few weeks ago with this idea and decided to go with it. Always a Moz fan, I couldn't turn this down. Don't worry, for all of you reading _What Fate Can Bring_, I'm still vigorously typing that story away and it will be finished. Please R/R and let me know if I should continue with this one. Thanks!

Rating: PG-13

Time: Somewhere in the Aladdin Series

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine but the idea.

* * *

** The Broken Thread  
** _ By: Ann C._

**Chapter One**

****  
  
"What do you remember of your childhood?" 

"Nothing."

The figure that had appeared only moments ago at his doorway was now daring to delve deep into his memories. Was he a brave man ... or a complete idiot? The cloaked figure, dressed in dark garbs hadn't set off his magic detectors, and yet seemed to give off some sort of elemental nature that Mozenrath couldn't easily explain or sense. "No, no. I'm sure you remember some things. Some fragments ... whispers in your mind." The man spoke softly, his voice worn and old, seemingly feeble. "They creep on you, sending sharp slivers of fear and anxiety throughout you and tear your mind apart." He paused. "It happens in your dreams, doesn't it? You see yourself as a child, lost and alone? Full of fear, utterly confused."

"Stop it." Was this itself, a dream? Mozenrath turned away, pacing slightly in his expansive entryway. It was a wonder to him that he even let the man inside his Citadel, but then looking back to only a few moments before, he couldn't remember finding any reason to decline his request to speak with him. It was unusual that he let him in without a second thought ... was this a trick? Was there magic being played upon him?  
  
The man ignored Mozenrath's order and continued. "Only, it doesn't feel like a dream, does it? It feels so real. You can feel the sun on your back, the wind in your face. Everything seems like it did so long ago, before everything in your world suddenly changed. And you don't remember how or why it changed either."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Through clenched teeth he spoke, the feelings the cloaked man spoke of were true and caused an onslaught of faded memories. Anger began to boil and simmer within his blood, his temper began to quickly rise and the faint hue around his gauntlet began to suddenly glow.

"Of course you do, Mozenrath. You've been having these dreams ever since you came to the Land of the Black Sand." Casually, the man walked around the entryway, gazing around the room and infuriating Mozenrath. "Yet don't you find it remarkable that you were nearly ten years old by the time you came to live with Destane and yet remember nothing beforehand? No memories of a childhood, of parents, of growing up?" He questioned, head cocked to the side and watched Mozenrath for a response. When he merely stared back at the old man, he pressed again. "It's so strange, isn't it? Almost like someone scratched that part of your life away from you? Kept it hidden. Why would someone want to do that to you?"

"How do you know these things about me? What magic is this?" The glow of the gauntlet began to shimmer into an iridescent shade of red and violet. His temper was being tested and within time he would fail given the right motivation. "I am warning you old man, I don't know what game you are playing, or how you made me let you inside my Citadel, but I won't stay so calm for much longer." He warned, fighting back the urge to destroy the man standing before him. _'It would only take one blast of my power'_ He thought sardonically, toying with the idea.

"There is no magic, Mozenrath. I am just ... a spirit, here to guide you in the right direction ... to correct a terrible fallacy that was pressed upon you as a young child." He stopped and turned to look at Mozenrath's perplexed expression. "And I can guarantee you that there isn't any possible way you could destroy me with your gauntlet."

Mozenrath shook off the sudden confusion of his words and made a mental note to keep the fact that this cloaked man somehow found a way to read his mind. Letting the power drain from his hand, the glow paled before extinguishing all together. "No. I was meant to be here. To give my right hand for power..." He flexed his gloved hand in response, and although he argued with the man's words, he felt the small whispers of a false life come dauntingly into his mind. "... I was meant to beat Destane and one day, to ultimately rule the Seven Deserts." He threw his arms in the air and looked around his castle. "This is all mine. Rightfully so." He found himself not only trying to convince the man, but strangely himself as well.

"Correct, it is yours. But, no, you weren't meant to be here ... to acquire all of this."

"Do you dare tell me that I am wrong? Do you dare question my power and all that I have achieved?" He approached the man now, trying to see the features behind the cloak. Yet, although his heart began to pound in rage and his sheer will was tested, he kept his gauntlet still and refrained from attempting to threaten the man with it's glow; knowing it would be only a decrepit attempt.

"Do you honestly believe you just wound up on Destane's door step one day ... out of luck? By some remarkable chance?" Behind the shade of his cape and cloak, the man smiled. Perhaps it was all finally beginning to click into place with this young man.

Silence followed.  
  
He continued, watching Mozenrath change from anger to confusion and thought and then reel back into rage and distress. "Someone made sure you ended up here. Sure, it only resulted in some of the most painful years of your life ..."

"You know nothing of pain!" He screamed, feeling the sudden strike of anguish swell down his arm and radiate with a burning scorch of deprivation. He struck out and grasped the man's cloak near the throat, pulling his body towards his own. His eyes burned darkly, memories and painful experiences all rushed at him with venom; leaving a bitter taste within his mouth and a sore heart in its wake. "I gave a part of myself away ... without any return ever promised just for the power I could hold in my right hand. The power that will one day help me rule everything, rule over everyone. Even you, old man."

The man cleared his throat and moved out of Mozenrath's grasp. "All I'm telling you... is that this wasn't the right choice for you. It wasn't the path you were supposed to take. This wasn't supposed to happen. Someone saw who you'd become ... someone looked into the future and they did everything in their power to alter what could have been. For some reason, they didn't want that to happen, so they moved the pieces around and cut a few threads in the tapestry of your life. Changed the cards fate had dealt you. No one is quite sure how or why this happened, but it has only come to our attention recently and we mean to rectify this injustice."  
  
"Who's _'we'_?" Mozenrath interrupted suddenly.  
  
"The other's like me; who make sure the destinies that are determined at birth are followed until death. Someone not only changed one little aspect of your life, but shifted the outcome of hundreds of people's lives in the wake of that decision. Your life, affects countless others in ways you can't possibly dream, affecting the original ways their lives were meant to be lived and interrupting the fate that was deemed for them. By correcting yours, we can correct theirs'." He sighed, and felt the weight of the task before him become even heavier on his shoulders. "Someone ... played with destiny. Someone broke the rules."

"What do you mean?" Somehow he was suddenly captivated by the man's words and finding himself wonder if this was possibly true. Anything could happen in his life, and it seemed everything tended to. Perhaps this was just another occasion. Not to mention the fact that he couldn't find the anger within him to stop listening to the man and kick him out.  
  
He sighed and paused for a tentative moment, choosing his words carefully. "Don't you see? You weren't meant to rule The Land of the Black Sands. _Ever_." Mozenrath frowned at that, sneering at the man coldly. "When you were born, your fate was not to rule over this land ... but another. You were supposed to be a normal person, on the side of good, not the evil man you have become. I know this person still lives somewhere within you, but so many years of suppression have made that man become lost within the vicious incarnate that stands before me today. I hope, one day that man will be freed and return you to your original destiny."

"Oh yeah?" He scoffed. "If this wasn't supposed to be my life, my fate, then what the hell was I supposed to rule?" Crossing his arms over his chest he watched the man skeptically.

"Agrabah."

* * *

_To Be Continued ... _

_Please, please, please R/R!_


	2. Mended

**Chapter Two**   
  
Mozenrath felt like laughing. Truly, the man was completely crazy and was now impressively trying to persuade him to believing he was meant to lead an alternate life as ruler of Agrabah and not The Land of the Black Sands; his home for over a decade. "Are you mad?" Mozenrath suppressed a laugh and looked down at the cloaked figure. When he shook his head in response, the laughter began to bubble up. "Well, this is new, I must say. I give you credit for finding the nerve to come here and try to convince me that I should be Sultan of Agrabah. Perhaps one day I will be, but not due to the way you speak of."  
  
"Stop being so damn full of yourself." He scoffed, unfazed when the gauntlet began to glow anew and Mozenrath's features turned hard and dark. "You've done nothing but sit around here and plot of new ways to torture Aladdin. You haven't even put a plausible plan of action into ruling the deserts in nearly two years."  
  
"I was waiting for the right moment." He said sharply through clenched teeth. Surely, this was a test. It had to be. No one besides Aladdin ever flared his temper so quickly without much effort.  
  
"When? The next apocalypse? No, your primary focus is to see the end of Aladdin and his friends; that personal vendetta has taken all of your attention since the day you met him. Each encounter thereafter was a desperate attempt to kill him. And we all remember what happened the last time . . . it failed. Just like every other ploy you conjured to try and rule the Seven Deserts. And you know why . . . ? Because they were never meant to happen in the first place. It was never in your cards to rule anything but one kingdom, that's why I personally think they got away with sending you to this one, another bent and broken rule." The old man muttered, becoming quickly lost within his own thoughts of the conspiracy. "Maybe if they thought that if they just changed the place of your upraising, everything would occur undiscovered by us." He laughed slightly. "Well, it worked before today."  
  
"I have no time for this." Mozenrath sliced the air with his hands, signaling the end of the conversation for him before he turned and began to leave him. "Let yourself out." He murmured, nearly reaching the end of the room before the man's soft and calm voice stopped him.  
  
"It is the truth, Mozenrath." He sighed, never turning away from the wizard. "This has gone unnoticed, until now. The change must be made before more lives are severely altered and permanently fixed. Either way, this is going to happen whether you like it or not." He sighed again, beginning to approach Mozenrath who started to immediately back away in retreat.  
  
"No one tells me what to do!" He cried out in anger and a slight twinge of fear. "I am warning you, stay back!" But the man came closer to him, no break or waver in his gait. When the man became less than a foot away from the enraged Mozenrath, he simply placed his hands on his shoulders, muttered a few words and darkness consumed them both.  
  
Mozenrath fell into a world of haze and mist alone, falling and falling as wind and water washed over him. He watched in awe as his clothes were stripped away, his hair and skin were altered, his gauntlet dissolved within seconds before he could make an attempt to salvage it. Moments later, the world spun in every which way before him and everything blurred. The last thing he remembered before he lost consciousness was the eerie voice of the old cloaked man murmuring, "The broken thread must be mended."

* * *

When Mozenrath awoke, he groaned and rubbed the back of his neck by a strange new reflex that felt oddly natural. His blurred vision began to alter and adjust to the low lighting in the room he was in. It was nighttime; the air was crisp and moist, the sky was black and the sound of evening silence filled his ears. Gazing around, he noticed a figure sleeping not far from him; the decrepit habitat of a commoner. What trick was this? Where had the old man put him? Rising, he stood and looked over the area. Ignoring the sleeping person only a few feet from him, he gazed out the massive window area that overlooked much of Agrabah. In awe, he stared at the Palace and licked his lips. What was going on?  
  
Mozenrath ran his hands over his face and rubbed throughly, as if to brush away this dream, before suddenly catching the color and tint of his skin in the corner of his eye. Slowly bringing his hands down in front of him, he stared in wonder at the bronzed flesh, and the complete right hand that rested where his gauntlet once had been. Panicking, he quickly began to search around him and on him for his glove, but soon gave up the search and felt a warm feeling overflow him at the sight of his completed arm once again._ 'It's been so long . . . '_ He thought in marvel, rubbing the skin over with his other hand, feeling the warmth and muscle beneath. _'It feels so wonderful, so complete.'_  
  
Checking over the rest of his body, he noted how much more muscle and tone he had, how much heathier he felt and how his hair was now short and slightly mussed. His garbs, to his annoyance, were tattered pants and a ragged, old shirt that was filled with holes and dingy stains. Why was he here? And where was that old man?  
  
The person near him stirred, rustled awake by the sounds of Mozenrath's strained breathing and sudden movements. "Moze?" He grumbled, turning over. "That you?" Drowsily, Aladdin turned over, still half asleep and not quite coherent.  
  
Mozenrath's jaw dropped and a new sense of anxiety flew over him. He couldn't find the words to speak or anything remotely clever to say. So, he did the only thing he could think of . . . he simply nodded and watched Aladdin fall back into his slumber. Heart pounding within his chest, Mozenrath quickly made his way out of the hovel and over onto the roof nearby. Standing near the ledge, he looked over the city, panic quickly spreading throughout his blood and making his knees weak.  
  
"Still think I was bluffing?" The old man spoke from behind, arms crossed at the chest and a smile across his face. The hood of his cloak was gone, showing his gray and tattered features. His chalk washed hair and his wrinkled smile greeted Mozenrath's own terrorized shock.  
  
"Why am I here!?" He demanded breathlessly, staggering over toward him. "Send me back! I demand you send me back!"  
  
"This is where you were meant to be. This is how your life was meant to be lived." He motioned over Mozenrath's clothes and looked him up and down. "The Land of the Black Sand is no longer yours, it is still being ruled by Destane."  
  
"_No!"_ Mozenrath shouted, anger quickly returning and fueling his madness. Surely, he decided, if he was going crazy, he was more than willing to take a few people along with him. "Take me back! The Sands are mine! Not that weak, old man!"  
  
"No!" The man shouted, his own rage beginning to dawn. "You have to listen to me now. You are not Mozenrath. You are Moze. You've lived in Agrabah all your life." Mozenrath simply shook his head at the notion and wouldn't accept what he was telling him. "I know this is a lot to take in all at once, but this is the pure and utter truth of what Allah had intended for you at birth. As I said before, someone altered your fate . . . they kidnapped you." The man spoke briskly, sharply and to the point. "They took you from your home here in Agrabah, ripped you from your family, and kept you hidden for nearly ten years before making a deal with Destane and practically handing you over to the dark side of this world." Mozenrath had given up fighting, his will drained and exhausted. In near anguish, he sat where he had stood and let what the man tell him sink in. It was all plausible.  
  
All of it had been heard, but only one part was crucially examined in Mozenrath's mind. "I had a family?" He said in a near whisper, his sight far off into the distance as his intellect played with the idea of someone once caring for him.  
  
The old man merely nodded in response. "Yet, your father and mother are gone now, your mother is dead and your father has been away for years. I'm sorry that you didn't get the chance to meet them. But, they knew you. You grew up with them, lived with them, raised by them into the man people know you today. You should know you have other family that lives in Agrabah as well, people you never knew were related to you, even as you attacked this city. When you were Mozenrath, the ruler of the Black Sands, they didn't know it was you, didn't even know you were still alive. Some were too young at the time of your kidnaping to even remember you. But now, its like none of that ever happened."  
  
The man paused before continuing, allowing him time to accept and take in everything he was sharing and explaining. "Moze, you have a lot to learn about the life you were never truly given. Everything here has now been changed and has happened as if you were never gone, as if that person never took you away. This is how your life would've turned out, had you stayed in Agrabah with your family. Mozenrath never existed to anyone besides you. Everyone here knows you as Moze and has known you since birth, the original way things were meant to happen."  
  
"But what if I want my old life back?" He questioned, staring up at him with bewilderment. The anger and fury interestingly gone from his heart and replaced by a strange new veneration and yearning for acceptance that he found vaguely remarkable.  
  
"You've been handed another chance at life, don't treat it as a punishment. Who knows, you may even come to like it better than your last." The man shrugged, looking over the land.  
  
Mozenrath simply scoffed. "Enjoy being a street rat?" He sneered down at his ratty clothes and dirty hands. "I think not. This is the exact thing I tried to destroy." He flexed his recovered hand, more than relieved when no pain flared up his arm, when the only thing that rested against his bone was the flesh that was meant to be there. Perhaps there were some good qualities toward this alternate universe.  
  
"I personally love the way irony works." He smiled, a glint in his eye. "At least here you have more companions than a slimy eel."  
  
"Xerxes!" He cried out, suddenly remembering the slight figment of his past. It was then he felt the void over his shoulder where the eel used to rest and mutter raspy things in his ear, words of encouragement for his master. As much as he beat on the animal, physically and emotionally, he did care for him.  
  
The man shook his head. "He lives with Destane, and knows nothing of you." Surprised, he watched Mozenrath's crestfallen expression cover his face. He always knew there was more to the man before him than an evil and wicked soul; he just needed the proper guidance and environment to flourish. "There are pros and cons to everything in life, but you can't always focus on the negative aspects. I promise you, there are many more pros to your new life than the small cons you are insisting on now." In thought, Mozenrath flexed his right hand again.  
  
"So, I have no powers?" He questioned, still staring at his hand. "No strength purely brought on by thought? The magic to make things move, to bring fourth energy and dispel it all within seconds?"  
  
"No." Mozenrath took it better than expected, merely nodding his head and sighing with slight grief. "None of that ever happened. Your past life is a memory, and only a memory to you. It means nothing to anyone else. You are allowed to keep those memories in order to learn from them, to change who you were for the better. You never met and bested Destane, you've never attacked this city, you never gave away your right hand and you've never even been to the Land of the Black Sand."  
  
"What of the street rat?" Mozenrath said suddenly, remembering his brief encounter in the hovel when he awoke. "Why did I wake up in his dank hole?"  
  
"Oh . . . " The old man smiled and chuckled, shaking his head with amusement. "Just so you know, there are many more surprises you're going to soon discover about your new life and just who you are, but I suppose there is one more thing you should know about this life tonight. Aladdin is not only your best friend, but he is, and always has been, your brother."

* * *

_To Be Continued . . . _

_Please R/R! - Much Appreciated_


	3. What Has Always Been

_A/N: Wow, I didn't think so many people would enjoy this story! Thank you so much for all who have reviewed so far, your words give so much encouragement to write and continue. I hope you like all that I have in store for Moz and the gang, so please keep reading, and of course, reviewing. :)  
_

* * *

**Chapter Three**  
  
Mozenrath stood immediately, his eyes never wavering from the old man's. The sense of shock bombarded his body and mind so quickly, he had barely any time to react or deflect the severity of the words spoken to him. His mind went blank in a sea of thousands of puzzled questions, his heart thudded dully within his wavering chest and his eyes darted around madly, as if searching for some answer . . . some absolution. His initial, and over exaggerated, response was denial followed by a stupor that worked to calm him, blanketing his overheated thoughts and soothing his scandalized ego. The aged man stood next to where he sat, watching the changes wash over him nearly simultaneously. Memories warped in Mozenrath's mind, occurring and overlapping each other, pictures of Aladdin and faded images of battles they had between one another at some instance or another. At one point, those memories had been as clear as day to him, now they seemed to fall between the cracks of his head, making the effort to recall them ridiculously laborious. _'Is this because those memories never actually happened? Are they only more fragments of a past I have never truly liven?'_ He thought in a bleary daze.  
  
He had always been drawn to Aladdin for some reason, it was only now that he finally had the pieces to put that mysterious fact and thought together properly. But still . . . _his brother_? Two years of battling the street rat and in actuality he was forging a fight between his closest relative? A part of a family he didn't even know he belonged to? After a moment of awe and a stunning revolution of comparisons to all the times he and Aladdin had been together, unknowingly, as brothers, the lurid side of Mozenrath took precedent and became outrageously offended and outraged. How could he possibly be related to gutter trash, street scum, the underbelly of society? It wasn't possible! How could he, a ruler and sorcerer of the Land of the Black Sands have blood stream relation to a mere boy who grew up a street rat and lived off of the food he stole? It couldn't be even remotely possible . . . _but then_ _again . . .  
_  
Oh, how his mind taunted him, turning one way and then another. For long, suspended moments he believed one life to be absolute and the other fictitious, but then his thoughts would flip sideways and shed light on another authentic memory, which caused him to lean against the previous truth. The battle within his mind continued, forging new memories to stir, new approximations to be brought fourth, leaving him with the only solid, staggering fact he had to live off, he had to believe above all else no matter how much he fought against it . . . Aladdin was his brother. Mozenrath broke away from his reverie for a moment to study the man that was watching over him. "So, where does that leave me?" He then stood, finding his legs a bit unsteady and his hands shaky. "Where do I belong now?"  
  
"That is for you to decide. I've already given you a push in the right direction, it is what you decide to do with it that was written in your destiny." Mozenrath turned away and walked towards the edge of the rooftop, looking around the city he originated from so many years ago, a city he had once vowed to destroy. When he turned back towards the old man, a question looming on his lips, he found himself alone. Hesitantly he searched around, knowing within him the spirit was long gone. Sighing, he took another moment to calm himself before making his way back into the hovel.  
  
Once inside, he saw the monkey he had previously missed, sleeping in his own puddle of drool sprawled out over a small throw pillow. Aladdin was still asleep on one of the steps near the expansive window and Mozenrath settled himself several feet away. The night drifted along, but Mozenrath neither slept nor rested, his mind barreling through thousands of unanswered questions about his life and the real person he was supposedly assumed to be. In half wonder and interest, he noticed the missing genie and carpet and made a mental note to find more about their whereabouts.  
  
For a while he merely stared at Aladdin's form, finally catching the subtle likenesses between the both of them. The natural mussed hair he had spent years keeping tamed and slick, the posture he had lost over the years due to a slumped and bent spine caused from hours a night spent pouring over books. He also noticed the demand for acceptance, the strive to achieve more out of life from themselves and others and of course, the pure and simple fact that neither of them had any idea of their true natural childhoods, a vague and distant memory for the both of them.  
  
Sighing, Mozenrath turned over and shut his eyes, trying to stop his thinking and induce sleep onto his tired and weary body. Just as the faint whisper of sleep crept upon him, two hands grabbed his shoulders and shook his body rapidly. Whirling, Mozenrath turned over, expression hard and cold, senses alert and ready.  
  
"Whoa," Aladdin said, suddenly backing off after seeing the demoniacal glaze in Mozenrath's eyes. "I was just trying to wake you." His hands were raised in front of him, palms out, in a sign of non-aggression. Behind him, the sun kissed the bottom of the sand dunes and slowly began to rise. "Are you feeling all right? You look a little pale." Before Mozenrath could stop him, Aladdin put his hand against his forehead and looked over other vitals.  
  
"I'm fine." Mozenrath snapped, momentarily appalled that he was touched by him. "Just leave me alone, stree–" His sentence halted on his lips, the reality came flashing back to him and slightly humbled his demeanor. "I'm fine." He repeated softly, pulling himself off the stone floor as he stretched his tired limbs.  
  
"All right." Aladdin murmured skeptically, taking one more glance over his brother. "If you're sure." Turning, Mozenrath watched Aladdin try and wake the slumbering monkey in the corner of the room, but to no avail. "Fine Abu," He muttered, giving up hope and beginning to walk out. "I wouldn't mind having your share of breakfast." Within seconds the monkey had broken its sleep and was perched rightfully on Aladdin's shoulder, rubbing the remaining drowsiness from his eyes. When Mozenrath didn't follow, Aladdin stopped in the doorway. "Aren't you coming?"  
  
"Where are we going?"  
  
". . . to eat." Aladdin responded slowly, dazed by the change he saw. "Moze, are you sure you're feeling okay?" When Mozenrath simply nodded, Aladdin looked at Abu and shrugged, continuing down the stairs. "Come on!" He shouted from the bottom. "We gotta eat and then we're going to the Palace, remember? I'm sure Jasmine won't want us to be late." With that, he disappeared around the corner and Mozenrath began his grudgingly decent downward.  
  
"Oh goodie," He muttered under his breath, cautiously dodging the beams above his head. "As if the street rat isn't enough, I've got to deal with the pampered princess too." Sighing, he stopped and stared upwards momentarily before mouthing the word, 'Thanks.' Once he had made his rocky way down the building and onto the crowding streets, he found Aladdin standing near a building, casually watching the market place.  
  
"Looks like Fasal has some nice ripe fruit, but then again Muham just got a fresh batch of fish in last night." He muttered, his eyes never wavering from the commotion in the streets, keeping a carefully trained eye on the constant lookout for the random guard that could appear at any moment. "It's your turn."  
  
"My turn for what?"  
  
"To pick what we're having for breakfast." Aladdin broke his gaze and turned towards Mozenrath. "Seriously, what's gotten into you?" Crossing his arms at his chest, he watched his brother quizzically.  
  
"Nothing . . ." Mozenrath mumbled, finding it constantly harder and harder to blend in and to keep from suddenly lashing out and wielding his right hand around manically. Yet, only a small part of him wanted to do that, the other had no problem whatsoever with getting breakfast . . . with just accepting what he was. It was almost as if with each passing moment more and more of the old Mozenrath was slowly disappearing and was being replaced by a subdued and humble commoner. '_Perish the thought._' His mind argued cynically. "I'm just . . . hungry?" There was a battle occurring within him, a battle between the old and evil Mozenrath and the new docile, simple human he was just beginning to become acquainted with. The side Mozenrath overall preferred was still undecided.  
  
"We'll let's get in place. Abu, you know what to do." Aladdin stretched out his arm and allowed the monkey to run down the length of it and jump nimbly onto the ground, leaping in to the throngs of the crowd, becoming lost within the sea of commoners. Aladdin waited a beat before tapping Mozenrath playfully on his chest. A coy smile across his lips, Aladdin darted across the street. "Come on."  
  
Eagerly Aladdin lead Mozenrath on top of a merchant's canopy, overlooking the street as the food rested below them. When Aladdin and Abu were in place, he motioned for his brother to begin. Once he caught on to the plot, Mozenrath reeled back. "We're going to steal it!?" He hadn't stolen anything that wasn't truly worth stealing in years, just for the fun of it. He had always thought of himself as a cultured man, and stealing melons and apples didn't quite appeal to that behavior.  
  
"Shhh!" Aladdin cocked an eyebrow at his brother. "We're going to _have_ to talk about what's going on with you." He sighed, turning back to his work. Sure, they could always get free food at the palace, but Mozenrath always preferred to dine and dash, it was a part of living on the streets that he had a hard time letting go. Aladdin on the other side hating stealing anything, even if it was for the welfare of his own health. But he always had a hard time going against his older brother, especially about the things he was adamant and passionate about. "Now be quiet, you wanna get us caught?" He whispered, watching the streets and keeping a low profile. One of these days they _were_ going to get caught, Aladdin mused, and the guards would have a field day.  
  
It didn't take long for Abu to distract, them to take what they wanted and eat gleefully on top of a nearby building. The munched on the melon quietly, each lost within their own dwindling thoughts that cascading throughout their minds, Aladdin's not nearly as heavy. He noticed the change in his brother and was bothered by it. He seemed more distant, his posture was different in the effect of how much more he slumped over, and his overall mannerisms had changed; becoming more erratic and unlike the normal suave and graceful Moze he knew.  
  
After dining on a quick and easy breakfast, they made their way towards the Palace, entering through the main gate. Mozenrath was quite amused at how easy it was to just waltz in with no distractions or problems, save for the sideways glares of Rasoul and his guards. Once inside the throne room, Mozenrath looked around in a newly developed awe. Although he had been there several times before, he never had the time to simply look back and admire the expansive gold and silver taste, the decor and the massive feeling the room created.  
  
"There you are." Jasmine smiled as she appeared from behind a thin tapestry, dressed in her everyday blue harem outfit. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd forgotten to come." She began to approach them, and Mozenrath sighed. _'Oh yay. The love puppies reunited again. I'm sure it was an agonizing twelve hours apart.'_ To his immediate and distant surprise, Jasmine went straight into his own arms, hugging him passionately before serving him a sweet and dwindling kiss on the lips, short and playful. Hesitantly, he returned the kiss, finding no reason to go against her obvious wishes. _'I always knew she had a thing for me.'_ He thought slyly.  
  
Mozenrath then turned he attention towards Aladdin who he would've believed to be outraged by the gesture, but was simply smiling proudly at the two. Once Carpet entered the room, his attention shifted and he began to communicate with him and the monkey. Still, to his surprise and fading interest, the genie never appeared.  
  
"I've missed you." Jasmine murmured softly and kissed him on the cheek. She too, noticed the same changes in him as Aladdin had. 

"I missed you too . . ." Mozenrath responded unevenly, unsure of how to answer and act in her presence. It was the first time since he had really known her that she hadn't said something snippy or shouted for the guards. _'I could get used to this.'_  
  
"Come on." Jasmine suddenly grabbed him by the hand and led him outside, a playful smile crossing her lips. "We'll be in the garden guys!"She shouted over her shoulder, leading him down the steps and over towards the peacock fountain. Once they reached the edge of the pool of water, Jasmine threw her arms around his neck and leaned in for a long and steamy kiss, full of longing and lust, an experience Mozenrath finally realized he had always wanted. They broke the embrace, and Jasmine looked him over questioningly, pursing her lips and cocking her head to the side with her hands on her hips. "What's going on?"  
  
Backing away, he turned from her and stared down into the crystal waters and the flittering goldfish that lingered below. "What do you mean?"  
  
"You seem so different. You feel . . . different." She replied, sitting on the ledge of the fountain. "Almost distant." She paused and watched him stare into the water at his reflection pensively. It was almost as if he didn't recognize the man staring back at him from the shallow pond. "Is something wrong?" He looked at her a long and agonized moment before inhaling deeply and shrugging.  
  
Perplexed, Jasmine searched for her next question, but before it could reach her lips and be voiced, Aladdin appeared from inside the palace and came over to join them."What's up with him?" Jasmine called out as he descended the steps, hoping he understood what his brother was going through.  
  
"Your guess is as good as mine." Aladdin shrugged as he reached them, sitting on the ledge and looking up at Mozenrath. "He woke up like this today, I can't figure it out either."  
  
"Moze, why do you seem so confused? So . . . out of place?" Jasmine questioned softly, laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder for comfort.  
  
"I don't know." He answered, sitting near Aladdin on the ledge. He had nothing left but to be truthful, at least as much as they would believe. "I don't really remember what's happened to me. Like, parts of my life are missing." Who better to fill him in than the people that obviously know him the best?  
  
"What don't you remember?" Aladdin crossed his arms over his chest and waited patiently.  
  
"Everything."  
  
"Do you remember how we met?" Jasmine asked encouragingly, starting from there and hoping to move forward and discover what was wrong with him. When he shook his head negatively, her heart dropped and sorrow filled her eyes. It was one of the most important days in her life and he didn't remember it?

"You can't remember anything . . . meaningful?" Aladdin asked, and when Mozenrath shook his head, Aladdin sighed deeply and rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe you have amnesia."  
  
_'Just go with it,'_ Mozenrath thought. _'They'll try and refresh your memory and in the meantime you can learn everything you want to know without them becoming too suspicious of your 'different' behavior.'_ Mozenrath sighed thoughtfully, pausing a moment for dramatic effect as if playing with the idea and thinking it over. "Perhaps that's it." He nodded, looking from Aladdin then to Jasmine.  
  
Over the course of the next hour, Aladdin and Jasmine tried desperately to try and shake some remembrance into him outside by the fountain, telling him about adventures they had gone on, the way Mozenrath and Jasmine had met in the market place one day when he saved her from losing her arm to an angry merchant. Later they had gone on to tell him of how he freed Genie and used his three wishes to meet Jasmine and save Agrabah from Jafar. A life, previously owned by Aladdin. Everything Aladdin had done in their other life had remarkably always been meant for Mozenrath to achieve. They told him of how he beat Jafar when he made a remarkable return and destroyed his magic and sent the conniving and devious Iago away. They then enlightened him about Genie's decision to leave spend a while with Eden, his girlfriend, and had been already gone for months. He learned more about his "real" life in an hour than he had ever dreamed possible. _He was a hero.  
_  
Mozenrath sat back and watched them wish him to remember, but none of that mattered. Only one thought whispered constantly throughout his mind, careening over his minced thoughts and battered memories. _He was always meant to be what Aladdin was in his other life_. He had Jasmine, he shared their friends and though the old man's words came flashing back to him suddenly, he timidly grasped the fact that he was going to become the next Sultan of Agrabah. Despite the awful creature he once was, he found himself nearly gleeful at the second chance that was beginning to dawn upon him.  
  
Jasmine sat down next to him and clasped his hand within her's, looking at him hopefully. "Is anything coming back, Moze?" She asked, running her other hand down his back and rubbing it reassuringly.  
  
"Slowly but surely." He stated with a smile, and merely because he could with no fear of ramifications from Aladdin, he kissed her suddenly and played it off as a sign of reassurance. There was nothing stopping him from just becoming what he was originally supposed to be, and the plain and basic fact of him becoming Sultan gave him the power he always dreamed of, ruling over a large and powerful city. Whether it was this flourishing land or the desolate and deserted Land of Black Sands didn't really matter . . . he was to rule nonetheless. Not to mention he had the beautiful Princess Jasmine obviously head over heels in love with him at his beck and call and Aladdin on his side for a change.  
  
But what to do with this new power? He could reign like he did over the Black Sands, cold and heartless, or he could use his second chance for the better. Either way, he was handed a new life just because someone screwed up ten years prior and they were finally making amends. It seemed that the only thing he was going to have to do was find away to get used to the change and discover a way to actually get along with his new found brother- once believed enemy. The world was at his fingertips, now the only thing he had to decide was what to do with it.

* * *

_To Be Continued . . . _

_Please R/R!_


	4. Crossroad

**Chapter Four**  
  
Dinner that night was more than awkward, it was downright uncomfortable. Aladdin and Jasmine told Mozenrath stories and jokes at nauseam, over and over in attempts to jog a memory that was never their to begin with. While he did find many stories to be informative and worthwhile knowledge, most were simply discarded as useless garbage he didn't need and wasted breaths on their part. It was incredible to learn about a man that he had never known and to discover that it was not only him, but also the man he would have become given the correct environment to evolve and flourish in.  
  
He felt his old, wicked side trying to plot ways to destroy and take over the city, but he quickly smothered those impure thoughts and tried to focus on starting over. Still, over dinner he had a hard time lifting his stare from Jasmine and filtering out his lustful thoughts. She was always attractive in his opinion, but only recently could he enjoy her breathtaking beauty and savor the fact that she was his and not Aladdin's. Mozenrath had to agree with the old man in one aspect, irony did work in nice ways sometimes.  
  
Mozenrath broke from his trance suddenly when he noticed no one was talking and they were all staring at him. "Sorry, I spaced out."  
  
"Aladdin just asked if you recalled anything." Jasmine repeated, her eyes full of hope after hours upon hours after suffering in worry about whether or not he'd ever remember anything of their past. Mozenrath shook his head and sighed as if frustrated. "Will you help me get something in the kitchen?" Jasmine requested gently, glancing from Moze to Aladdin and then back to Moze again. Her worry was evident to them both, but Aladdin smiled at her reassuringly and gave her a small sliver of hope. Mozenrath nodded and rose to join her in the other room. Once inside, she stopped and turned towards him. "Look at me, Moze." He obliged her request, uncertain what she was doing. "I mean really look at me." She demanded, anger and defeat seeping through her words.  
  
"I am." He answered honestly, looking her up and down and enjoying the trip both ways. "What am I looking for?"  
  
"No, you're not looking at me the way you used to." A tear gathered in her eye. "You're eyes . . . they're different. You're different. More has changed with you than just your memory." She began, the tear slipping from her eye and running down her cheek. In a gesture that surprised Mozenrath, he moved to wipe the tear off her skin, tenderly and gently. Then, purely going with instinct and what felt right, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her softly and with all his heart in order to comfort her, a way he had never kissed anyone before.  
  
"Jasmine," He whispered, their mouths only breaths apart, his lips still tingling as he savored the taste of her. "I love you." The shockwaves rippled through him as he murmured the words, completely stunning him even as they left his lips and became voiced. She smiled and returned the sediment, but he barely heard her reply. He had never loved anyone his entire life and yet he uttered the words without a second thought, and even after they were said, he began to discover the words were true. He _did_ love her. He, Mozenrath, once lord of the Land of the Black Sands, was falling in love with the Princess Jasmine; a girl he had always had an undiscovered attraction to but never thought it was anything more than lust. It took a complete reality change, name alteration and forged alliances with old enemies to discover what had always been hidden deep within his heat. His head was spinning and the earth was moving beneath him at this breakthrough, while his heart pounded harshly in his rib cage. So much to accept in one day, so much to take in about a life he had never lived and never knew existed.  
  
"Moze?" Jasmine cried out in worry as his balance began to waver and his face paled. "Are you all right?" She moved to support him, putting one of his arms over her shoulder. "Aladdin!" She screamed as Mozenrath began to lose consciousness and his weight overcame her's and threatened to take them both to the floor. When the darkness overcame him, his last sight was Aladdin rushing into the kitchen, worry and fear across his face and Jasmine's panicked voice ringing in the air with his final thoughts before he passed out playing over his last previous words, _'Jasmine, I love you.'_

* * *

"Moze decided to go home, he said he was really tired. I think it was all too much for him to take in within a few hours. Jasmine, are you okay?" Aladdin found her sitting by the peacock fountain an hour after Moze passed out in the kitchen, simply dangling her hand in the water and letting the fish tease her fingertips. Her anguish was easily read and Aladdin's heart was nearly as heavy as her's. Her thoughts wandered with no direction yet they always led back to Moze's lost expression and the sheer and undeniable fact that he didn't remember anything that happened between them, it was almost as if he was a completely different man. The moments before he passed out scared her beyond belief, it was then she totally believed she was looking into the eyes of a stranger. A hollowed shell of the man she once believed to know like the back of her own hand.  
  
She didn't answer him, but gave him a sorrowful, withering expression that broke his heart. Jasmine had always been the sweetest person to him and he never doubted for a moment that his brother was the luckiest man on the world for being engaged to such a wonderful woman. "He'll remember eventually, Jas." He consoled, sitting next to her on the fountain once again, his gaze locking with her's.  
  
"Thank you Aladdin." She sighed. "It just feels like the Moze I know is gone." She paused and collected her thoughts. "I know this doesn't make any sense, but he's totally different from the person that said good night to me yesterday. I know it's probably because of his sudden amnesia, but still . . . so many things are different." She turned to him. "How can so many things disappear from him overnight?"  
  
"I don't know, but I do understand what you mean."  
  
"How is even possible that this happened so fast? What brought this on?" Again, Aladdin shook his head in bewilderment. "He knew who we were, he knew who he was, but had no memories. Like someone just wiped them away."  
  
"This morning he looked at me in a way he's never done before. It was like his mind was throwing him in a thousand directions and he didn't know which way to go. I have _never_ seen him like that before, the way his eyes were and just . . . just the way he looked at me." He stressed, his eyes wandering off into the distance as he recalled that morning, a short but painful experience he wished to erase from his own memory.  
  
"How did he look at you?" She questioned delicately.  
  
"With anger." He answered quickly, the burn from the earlier regard still within his mind and afflicting his heart. "With contempt. With loathing." Aladdin sighed and closed his fists, hands clenched tightly. "No matter how much we've ever fought over the years and been mad at each other, it was always a brotherly type feud or twenty minute bout. You know, something that we both knew was basically meaningless, and would be over and forgotten about an hour later. He's never looked at me with that kind of dangerous expression . . . there's always been love behind the anger. This time there wasn't, but there was almost this sense that he . . ."  
  
"That he what?"  
  
"I know this sounds crazy, but . . . it was like he wanted to - to hurt me . . . to kill me." Jasmine covered her mouth with her hand to smother a startled gasp that threatened to escape. Aladdin relaxed his hands and forced his stressed muscles to ease, not just for his welfare, but Jasmine's as well. "Maybe I'm just overreacting." He played with the idea in his head, but it didn't quite add up correctly.  
  
"Or maybe you're not." Jasmine muttered, her thoughts and eyes drifting off, becoming lost within a sea of doubt and uncertainty.  
  
"Either way, we're going to have to adjust. We don't know what caused this sudden change in him and we may never discover the truth or find the explanation. Who knows how long this could last . . . he may never remember. He may never go back." He said gently, feeling just as saddened by his words as Jasmine did.  
  
"I know." She brushed a stray tear away and approached him. "No matter what happens I want to thank you for everything. Everything that's ever happened between me and Moze, I always knew I could turn to you for comfort. You've always been so sweet and caring towards me, even though I seem to have stolen your brother from you." She added with a small, devious smile.  
  
He smiled as well, and closed the small distance between them, his heart skipping a beat and pounding in his ear. "You can steal anything from me." His voice was low, nearly a whisper. He could smell the soap off her skin, permeating from her hair and felt his insides tighten. It was so hard to fight his control, to fight his heart. His eyes were half closed, enjoying the feeling of her presence, the slight warmth he could feel from her body. "I think you already have."  
  
"What do you mean?" She asked him, looking deep within his soft, brown eyes. Her voice was soft as well, barely a whisper and nearly a murmur. As long as she had known Moze since the day in the market place, she had known Aladdin and for some reason unknown to her, she had been drawn to him even as she fell in love with his brother. Aladdin always seemed to hold back, to keep from moments alone with her such as this and now that they finally had a stolen instant in privacy between the two of them, she cherished it unconditionedly.  
  
His breath was tingling her skin, his hands rested mere inches from her own, yearning to hold them. His gaze never wavered from her own, keeping them locked within his and exposing his most treasured secrets. The moment was perfect; the moon gave them a milky glow and the sounds of the night surrounded them while the gentle patter of water from the fountain whispered to them, almost urging them to listen to their hearts and answer their own wishes.  
  
Aladdin inhaled slowly and deeply, deciding over his words and whether to utter them, to let them pass over his lips. She had been on his mind every night since the day he spotted her in the market place, handing an apple to a small boy. He had been taken away by her, his breath gone from his chest and his eyes glued on her unique innocence. Yet, his brother was the one jump in and save her, to take her back to their place, to win her heart, free the genie, save the city from evil and ruin. . . to steal her away. "Nothing." He said suddenly, turning away from her and making his way back inside the palace.  
  
She stood in wonder and somewhat hurt, watching him quickly hurry up the stairs towards the throne room. "Aladdin!" She cried out before she could hold her tongue. He stopped himself and turned, waiting as she ran to him, holding on desperately to the small bit of control that still remained within him.  
  
When she reached the stair he was on, she paused and stared at him, a loss for words. "What?" He prompted, an eyebrow raised.  
  
"I just . . ." Her mind was racing in a search for words. "I love your brother." She began, her voice wavering slightly. "But I just . . ." She grabbed him suddenly and pulled his lips onto her's in a fast and frenzied kiss that elevated the both of them, creating a deeper sense of longing either had ever known. The heat burned between them as both hearts pumped wildly in synchronization, the blood flowing through them like fire and thrilling their senses. When they broke, the world around them was a blurred, distant land that neither recognized, nor focused on. Both became lost within the other's eyes once again - a habit that was getting more and more measured each time they attempted it. And yet within their eyes, they were taken away by the sudden impulsive affection and infatuation that was becoming dauntingly clear.  
  
"Jasmine." Aladdin sighed, closing his eyes and resting his forehead on her's while he attempted to catch his breath. "Jasmine . . ." He repeated, merely for the feeling and taste of her name in his mouth and the beautiful ring it made in his ear. "Jasmine, I have to tell you, I . . ." She stopped him, placing her finger over his lips to silence him.  
  
"I love your brother." She reiterated. "No matter what I can or do feel for you, or what is blooming between us, I made him a promise. A promise of my love for him and our future that I can't break." She began to climb the stairs, leaving him to stare at her in bewilderment. Jasmine turned when she reached the top, looking at him tearfully. "I'm sorry, Aladdin." When he was gone from sight, her pace broke in to a sprint as she ran to her room, collapsing on the bed in a fit of tears and sobs. Her emotions ripped her in two and her guilt threatened to get the better of her. _'Oh Allah,'_ She thought brokenly. _'What if I made the wrong choice? Would it be unfair to my heart to live the rest of my life unhappily? What if Moze is not my true love . . . my soul mate?' _She looked up and outside her window onto the balcony, thinking over tender, loving moments with Moze and then treasured, small moments with Aladdin that meant nearly as much. And now, that day brought on a certain clarity of the man that Moze somehow turned into and turned her away. _'I promised myself to him. I accepted his proposal.'_ Her mind recalled. '_You love him! You know you do. Just because Moze acted differently for a day does not mean his feelings have changed. Just because you feel a little spark between Aladdin and yourself does not make you immediate and definate soul mates.'_ Everything seemed to be spinning out of control and she had no where to go, nowhere to escape_.'Even if that small spark is now developing into a wild fire.'_ The tears began to flow again as she buried her face within her pillow and sobbed. _'Allah, please guide me. What do I do? How can I love two men?'  
_

* * *

_To Be Continued . . . _

_Please R/R!_


End file.
